


An Evening in Mombasa

by michelleblack



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michelleblack/pseuds/michelleblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Arthur and Eames met and fell in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Evening in Mombasa

The café was situated in one of the nicer parts of Mombasa. Arthur had seen it while out sightseeing earlier that day, but hadn't had the time to stop for longer than to remember the directions.   
He walked into the smoky but quaint little café and went up to order a cup of coffee. The waiter brought the coffee to Arthur's table not far from the exit. Sipping at the hot beverage, Arthur allowed himself to scan the crowd of people inside the picturesque café.   
At a table about six yards from him there was a group of men playing poker. One of them stood out from the crowd; a white man in a distasteful light-brownish suit with a pink shirt wasn't a common sight in Kenya. Arthur's eyes rested upon the man for quite some time. He was too far away to see through the smoke, and it was quite dark outside as the sun was setting, for Arthur to fully take note of the man's looks, but he could distinguish the man's pointy nose and his light brown hair; slicked back and parted to the right.  
Merrily the men kept playing, speaking in a mixture of Swahili and English. Arthur kept watching the man, strangely finding himself intrigued by this mysterious man who looked so out of place.  
After a quarter of an hour, Arthur had finished his coffee and was just relaxing. The man at the table sighed and got up, gathering his remaining poker chips and left his gambling comrades. Arthur followed him with curious eyes as the man walked over to cash in the chips, then left in a hurry. Arthur sighed, confused at the feeling of bereavement washing over him as he watched the man stroll out of the café. Arthur left the café shortly afterwards.

Arthur decided to spend the next day at the beach, just relaxing, precisely as Cobb had demanded he'd do because Arthur needed a holiday. Why he'd chosen Mombasa though, Arthur doesn't know, but he's happy with his choice because the weather was fantastic. He was lying on a sun lounger, head propped up on one hand as he used the other to turn pages in the book he's reading.   
All of a sudden a person passed him, casting a shade over him. Arthur looked up from the blinding white pages and saw the brown haired man from last night in the café. The man was strolling lazily across the beach, dressed in an obnoxiously orange shirt and grey surf shorts, towel slung over his shoulder. He looked strange in that orange shirt, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to complain when the man came to a stop about twenty yards away and pulled the shirt over his head to reveal slightly tanned and tattooed skin.   
Arthur completely forgot about his book as his eyes followed the languid movement of the man as he sauntered down to the sea. A group of children playing blocked his vision, and with a sigh he turned back to the book.   
Soon his curiosity got the better of him and he looked up again to find he now had an almost clear view of the man now wading around in the shallow water. As the man went deeper, Arthur got a feeling he desperately wanted to get closer, or at least have a pair of binoculars, but he brutally murdered the idea and stayed put, the book in one hand and his mind and eyes on the mysterious man wading in the cool water. A strange feeling swept around inside him, it felt warm and quite pleasant.

As night fell, Arthur made his way back to the pleasant café, not quite knowing why. Part of him hoped he would find the man there again, but the logical part of his brain quickly pushed those ridiculous ideas aside.   
He ordered a glass of Coca Cola and sat down at a table quite close to the corner where he'd seen the men play poker yesterday evening. Someone had turned on the radio, which was playing a rather cheerful song in Swahili with a nice rhythm; had Arthur liked that kind of music, he might have wanted to dance.   
Halfway into his drink the radio made a rather abrupt jump in the style of the music being played. Arthur didn't quite know the song, but he knew it was by the French legend Edith Piaf. His focus was torn away from the pleasant tunes of the song and to the door which had just opened. Arthur felt his breath hitch.  
In walked the man Arthur had been hoping and dreading he would see. He was still wearing the strange orange shirt, but this time with light brown pants. Suddenly feeling very unwell, Arthur sipped at his drink. The man went up to the counter and ordered a drink, a Coca Cola Arthur noticed. Then, to Arthur's horror, the man turned and walked towards him.   
Arthur could feel himself struggling to breathe. He didn't know why, he hadn't done anything wrong, so why the hell was he acting like this? It's highly probable he had turned a funny shade of red by the time the mysterious man stopped at the exact table Arthur's sitting at. Not knowing what to do, Arthur just stared like an idiot at the brunette.   
"Mind if I sit down?" the man asked. Arthur shuddered as he heard the words spoken in a dark, vibrating voice. British accent, now that would explain why he looked so out of place. An Englishman in Kenya…  
Arthur merely nodded, shaking his derailing train of thought back on track. The man sat down opposite him and drew in a breath. Arthur just stared, much like the fool he felt like.   
"I saw you here last night, and at the beach earlier today. I've been expecting you, just didn't think you'd look so dashing. Are you new at the job?" the man simply asked, eyes not showing any emotion, and Arthur was dumbfounded.   
"I - I'm sorry?" he managed to blurt out, voice wavering in anxiety as he fought to stay calm and not be overtaken by this feeling that came over him every time he saw this mysterious man.   
"He sent you here to kill me, hmm? I can understand that. I had no intention of finishing the job, I only wanted the satisfaction of watching your boss chase after something he will never have. There's that old saying… Oh, yeah, karma's a bitch" the man took a mouthful of his drink and Arthur watched in confusion as he downed it, Adam's apple bobbing.   
"I think you're mistaking me for someone else," Damn! Arthur's first coherent sentence since this man sat down. "I'm here on holiday"  
Suddenly the man let out a short huffed laughter, "American! Wonderful, so you're not here to kill me after all?". The man reached for the peanuts in the little bowl on the table, and Arthur felt his face heating up. "No" he merely responded, feeling inexplicably shy and self-conscious. The man chewed the peanuts slowly, and when he had finished, beamed at Arthur.  
"I'm glad to hear it. I would hate to kill someone as pretty as you. Your glass is empty; come, I'll buy you a drink" The man stood up and Arthur obligingly followed him to the bar. They ordered a few drinks, most of which Arthur didn't recognise, as he wasn't a big drinker, but he wouldn't say no to a drink or three when he was being offered.   
Back at the table, Arthur sat down opposite the man who eyed him cautiously with his grey eyes. He held out his hand and Arthur took it; it was hot, bigger than his own and the skin was rough. "You've got a name?" the man asked with a small smile full of mirth. "Arthur," he replied and looked questioningly at the brunette. "Well, I should've guessed you're an Arthur. You have that Arthur-ish air about you. Eames" the man called Eames said with a smile.   
"Arthur-ish air?" Arthur asked, eyebrows quirking upward in question. Eames sipped at his first drink, and Arthur politely copied. "Yes, sort of regal. King Arthur, you know". Some more peanuts meet their untimely death crushed between Eames' slightly discoloured teeth; a typical sign of a man being British - discoloured teeth and King Arthur-references.   
He hummed in response and downed his first sweet and fruity drink, while wondering exactly what it is he was drinking. "But I hate to say you're not that masculine," The comment came as a bolt from the blue. "Excuse me?" Arthur sputtered. Being insulted by a man he had known for about a minute was something entirely new for him.   
"Not in a bad way, darling. It suits you. I can't imagine you with, for example, a semi-automatic rifle. What do you work with?" Arthur was just about to retort that it really wasn't any of his business, when Eames interrupted him. Damn that man likes to talk, Arthur thought to himself.   
"No, let me guess… Three-piece suit… You don't look like a bank executive; what on Earth would you be doing in Kenya if that was the case, except maybe bribing politicians or having a sordid affair away from the wife… No, you don't have a wife. Gay?"  
Arthur huffed in pretence-insult. This would be fun, watching the man trying to guess his profession; there was no way he would guess remotely correct.   
"Well if you were gay, that would explain the staring at me when I was out swimming earlier," Eames said with a glint in his eye. Fuck, Arthur thought as he felt his face burst into flames. "Your job… Has it got anything to do with security? Business security?"  
Arthur sipped at his second drink, feeling slightly woozy from the first drink and the warmth of the Kenyan evening. "I guess you could say that…. Now, what about you? What can a British gambler possibly be doing in Mombasa? You expressed ideas that I was here to kill you, because you didn't finish a job my supposed employer set you up with. Which means you're probably working with something really secret, maybe illegal…" "Okay let's leave business-talk and delve into more pleasant topics of conversation. What are you doing here in Mombasa?" Eames stopped him, and Arthur knew he had struck quite close to the truth.   
Eames munched down some more peanuts. "Holiday, as I told you. My employer told me I've worked too much, and I need a break. He suggested Mombasa, don't know why though, but he's been here before on a job-related meeting with someone who lives here. What are you doing here apart from gambling?"   
Eames leaned closer over the table, and Arthur felt compelled to lean in. "Hiding. There are people after me, relentless murderers and businessmen, and some other people who have been offended by my work," Eames leaned back with a relaxed smile on his lips, "Mombasa is also a wonderful city, I especially love this café and the beach. I live not far from here, actually". Arthur's eyes continuously strayed from the man's grey eyes to the full pink lips curved into a smile. He downed his second drink and half his third to try and chase the fluttering feelings away.   
"Doesn't your girlfriend disapprove of your dangerous line of work?" Arthur asked nonchalantly, well aware that he was fishing for information. Eames looked up from where he'd intently been twirling a red poker chip in his right hand and looked straight into Arthur's eyes, the grey eyes crackling with something intense. "I live alone, much easier that way, and cheaper, unless I find someone special to court with drinks".   
Arthur had a really hard time tearing his eyes away from the sparkling grey eyes of the brunette opposite him; when he did, they instead searched their way back to the luscious pink lips.   
"It's getting late," Eames observed as he checked the gold watch on his left wrist. "I have an unopened bottle of wine in my flat. Red"   
Arthur's breath hitched at the way Eames said that final sentence. Definitely an invitation. Eames stood up and Arthur followed.   
Soon they had left the café and were strolling under the rapidly darkening sky with a few stars visible on the night sky above. Neither found the words to break the slightly awkward silence as Eames led the way down street after street until Arthur was almost lost, but not quite. His hotel was a few blocks away.   
Eames led him up a small concrete stairwell with peeling paint and unlocked a green door at the middle floor. He stepped inside and Arthur followed him into a small but neat apartment. It had only one room, but it was decorated with distinguished taste.   
"How about that wine?" Eames said, taking Arthur's jacket and hanging it carefully over the back of a chair. Arthur waited patiently, taking his time to study the strange flat, no doubt reflecting the strangeness of this Mr Eames.   
Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw something on the bed. On top of ornate bed sheets with colourful African prints lay a silver suitcase, much like the PASIV Cobb and the team used for their dream missions. It looked out of place and quite daunting. The minute Eames found Arthur looking at it, he quickly strolled over and put it under the bed. "Business" was the only explanation Arthur received. Eames switched on the radio, and a slow African jazz tune flowed out of the speakers.  
Eames placed a glass of sparkling red wine in Arthur's hand and smiled. Arthur thanked him and sipped carefully. The wine tasted a bit too sour for Arthur's taste, but he still enjoyed it, although feeling slightly intoxicated from the previous drinks. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were deliberately trying to get me drunk to get me into bed" Arthur said, tone coming off more shamelessly than he first had intended, and he cringed at his own crudeness. It was made even worse by the fact that Edith Piaf's song La Vie En Rose was playing on the radio.   
Suddenly Eames stepped closer to him, with a slightly mischievous grin on his lips. "Would you object, Arthur?" Arthur found himself taking a step closer to the man, now being so close to feel the warmth radiating off Eames. "I don't think so, Mr Eames. I'm not sure though, I've never talked to a man like this before" Arthur said sincerely, voicing his ever-decreasing doubts.   
Seriously, Eames was gorgeous! Arthur had no idea when he had gotten this lucky to find a man like this. And that British accent, and those lips…  
All of a sudden, those lips were pressed softly against Arthur's, to the sound of Edith's beautifully vibrating voice as the song reached a crescendo. Something inside Arthur snapped like a broken twig at the touch of the soft lips against his and the large hand with the rough skin gently touching his face. Arthur felt all warm and hot inside, and he had no idea what to do with these wonderful and uncomfortable emotions welling up, and he broke into tears.   
Eames withdrew and stared into Arthur's face with the grey eyes full of regret and horror. "I'm sorry, was it too soon?"  
Damn, Arthur hated himself! Eames had been wonderful almost all evening, and now Arthur had to act like a crying snot-nosed baby. "No, you've been lovely… I'm sorry, I should go. Thanks for the wine. Thanks for everything, Eames. Good bye!" Arthur grabbed his jacket from the chair and sprinted out of the apartment, looking back one final time to see the stunned Eames standing in the middle of the room, La Vie En Rose fading out…

It was spring, and Paris was lovely. Cobb had insisted on them going to Paris, to meet Miles and to set up their usual warehouse with the equipment needed for the job. As usual, Arthur was there bright an early, when Cobb was still at the hotel. Arthur wanted to get some work done, he had to touch up on some parts of the maze that would be used in the dream.   
Suddenly his phone rang. Arthur answered, and was greeted with the slightly out-of-breath voice of Dom Cobb. "Hey, Arthur. Have you seen the PASIV?" "Yeah, it's here with me. I want to get some work done while you're at the airport. Thought it's best if I get the redesign done as quickly as possible, so they won't have to wait" By they, Arthur was referring to the new forger and chemist Cobb would pick up at the airport. They were from Mombasa. The forger Cobb had worked with before, but the chemist was unknown to both of them. Arthur just knew that if Cobb trusted the forger, he could trust someone the forger could trust. "Good, well I'll see you later".   
Arthur hung up and went back to setting up the PASIV with the right dose of Somnacin to be out for fifteen minutes. He finished touching up on the design, then went in to actually create the changes and make sure the dream worked alright.   
He was just about to try and access the practice-safe when he heard music. "Fuck, I needed a minute more…" he muttered as he unscrewed the bolts of the heavy-duty door guarding the room. Deciding that everything was in working order anyway, he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger without hesitation.   
Waking up in the warehouse, he could hear voices from outside. Cobb must have arrived with the newbies. The song echoed inside the warehouse, and while Arthur was checking he was okay to remove the IV, the group of people emerged into the main area of the warehouse. It was too bright for Arthur's eyes to quickly adjust themselves, he hadn't been gone long, but it had been considerably darker in the dream.   
Cobb walked up to him and pointed over to the two men silhouetted by the bright sunlight. "Arthur, this is Yusuf and Eames, from Mombasa. Yusuf here creates his own versions of the compounds, and Eames is the best forger I know of"  
Arthur sat up on the bench and willed his eyes to adjust. One of them greeted him with a cheerful voice, while the other just took a few steps forward. "You've got to be kidding me…" the other man said in surprise. Arthur remembered that voice…  
Shielding his eyes against the harsh sunlight, he took a few hesitant steps closer to the newly arrived team members.   
Damn! Arthur could practically feel his jaw drop. In front of him stood, dressed in a blue shirt and light grey trousers, the man he never thought he'd meet again. Pulling himself back to reality, Arthur practically jumped onto the stop button to kill the song before the man would recognize it.   
Too late, it seemed. "Edith Piaf? I thought you had forgotten…" Eames said, in that crisp, dark British accent. Arthur felt a rush of emotions wash over him. "Hello, Mr Eames" Arthur replied, not quite knowing what else to say.   
I've been thinking about you every waking moment, and dreaming about you every night; it seemed too personal somehow, to tell a man you haven't met for two years. I can't forget the feel of your lips against mine, the glint in your grey eyes. I've never forgotten the songs I heard when I was with you. No, all of it seemed too intimate. After all it had just been one kiss, one tiny but failed moment in time when Arthur had acted horrible towards Eames.   
"You know each other?" Cobb asked cheerfully, obviously oblivious to what Arthur felt was happening.   
The Earth moved. Seemingly spinning off its axis. The sunlight was too bright. The darkness was too dark. Eames was too perfect. Arthur felt his throat dry up like a well in the desert.   
"Arthur and I had the pleasure of meeting each other two years ago in Mombasa" Eames said, casting a cautious look into Arthur's widening eyes.   
"That's great! Arthur, have you finished the maze?"  
"Yeah" was all he could say. It seemed his brain had stopped functioning properly.   
"Great! I need to go talk to Miles. Arthur, why don't you show them that great place we have lunch at? I won't be having lunch today. It's been a long flight for them" Cobb said, scurrying around the room gathering various items and papers. Arthur sighed, nodded and looked at Yusuf, preferring to avoid direct eye contact with Eames. "Yusuf? nice to meet you. I hope you like French food"

At the restaurant they sat down at Cobb and Arthur's usual table. Yusuf ordered a salad, explaining that he was still feeling quite nauseous from the flight. Eames smiled to himself and ordered steak and potato with a side salad; fortunately he was paying, as Arthur had left his cards in safe in the warehouse.   
Conversation was almost non-existent. Yusuf had picked up on the tension between Arthur and Eames, and he was obviously wise enough to leave matters alone, and was happily munching his salad.   
"Excuse me," Yusuf excused himself and went to the restroom. Arthur wished he hadn't; he didn't want to be left alone with Eames.   
Eames was silently chewing his steak. Arthur could tell he was nervous as hell, but did an excellent job of not revealing that. Arthur had long since finished his quiche, and was sipping a glass of sparkling mineral water while stealing tiny glances at the brunette opposite him.   
The man hadn't changed much. His taste in clothes had improved, and Arthur felt his insides clench at the thought that maybe it was thanks to a woman. Eames still had that same haircut, slightly longer than two years ago. He was still gorgeous as hell.   
"Look," Arthur cringed; he hadn't meant to break the silence so abruptly. Eames looked up and dropped his fork, face suddenly contorting in anxiety and pain. "I'm sorry about what happened, I shouldn't have done that…" Eames' voice held the tiniest waver, and the apology struck Arthur like a punch to the gut.   
"No, Eames, I'm sorry. We had a wonderful time, you were great. I panicked, I think I was overwhelmed by my own emotions. I couldn't face it" Arthur forced out the apology past the sudden painful blockage in his throat.   
A spark was lit in Eames' eyes and Arthur held his gaze, this time unwilling to ever let go. He'd had a lot of time to think about what might have happened. It wasn't like him, to think about what ifs, but things were different with Eames.   
"Arthur… I thought you cried because I was too… Forward"  
He cringed, did Eames have to shout from the rooftops? His voice wasn't at all teasing, just careful, wary, but a bit too loud.  
Arthur leaned closer across the table, and Eames leaned slightly closer, eyes shining with fear, worry and hope. For the life of him, Arthur swore to himself that he would never kill the hope in those eyes, he'd rather die first.  
"Eames… You have no idea how sorry I am, for leaving you standing there. You looked devastated, and Edith's La Vie En Rose didn't make me feel any better… It hurt, leaving you like that. I'd like to make it up to you, if you'd let me"  
At those words, Eames head tilted back and he let out a rough laughter and a sharp huff of breath. Arthur didn't know how to interpret that laugh, he merely leant back and waited. Silence followed, and a small smirk crept onto Eames' face. "Dinner? Tonight? Cobb told me we're all staying at the same hotel…"  
Yusuf chose that inopportune moment to announce his return to the table. Eames cast him a stern glance, at which Yusuf froze in bemusement. Arthur hid a grin with his hand as he bluntly met Eames' now softer gaze observing him. "The entrance at seven?" Arthur asked with a hint of a smile. Smiling Eames nodded and let out a sigh. 

Later that evening, at precisely five minutes before seven, Arthur walked into the entrance to the hotel. Eames hadn't arrived yet, so Arthur took the time to walk around and admire the décor of the four-star hotel.   
A sharp clearing of a throat caused Arthur to turn around. Eames stood smiling nervously at him, and Arthur returned the smile. His stomach fluttered and he felt like a fifteen year-old out on the first date.   
"Shall we?" he said and Eames followed him out of the door. They hailed a taxi which drove them to the restaurant Arthur had made a reservation at.   
Amazingly the dinner went well, despite Arthur feeling nervous the entire time. He'd spilled some wine on his expensive suit; Eames had laughed at that, and the sound made Arthur forget entirely about the incident, just relishing the happy sound.   
"I feel like walking, it's a lovely evening" Arthur said when they had finished eating and were quietly drinking the remainder of the wine in pleasant silence. Eames agreed and they split the bill and then left.   
Deciding to walk the route back to the hotel, Arthur walked silently beside Eames. The man was quite busy taking in the scenery of the beautiful city, and Arthur was happy stealing glances at his expressions of happiness and wonder.   
"Is this your first time in Paris?" he asked. Eames tore his eyes away from the amazing lights. His eyes were alight with amazement. "No, but I've never seen the city after dark. It's beautiful. Look! There's the Eiffel Tower!" Eames came to a halt and stared at the huge lit-up steel structure piercing the night sky.   
"Beautiful" Arthur murmured, watching the lights play over the tanned skin of Eames, heedless of the monstrous tower of light that currently captured the man's interest.   
The pair continued after a few minutes of Eames satisfying his curiosity with the Eiffel Tower after nightfall. Neither spoke until they had entered the hotel and were on the way up. A bolt of panic swept through Arthur; where were they going? What would happen now?  
"Our rooms are on the same floor" Eames suggested helpfully. Arthur let out a nervous laughter and wished the elevator to arrive, dammit.   
When they stood outside Arthur's door, the point man unlocked the door, then turned around and looked Eames straight in the eye. "If you want to leave, go now. If not, I want to try things again and make up for my horrible mistake of leaving you" he said, surprising himself at the bluntness.   
Eames chewed on his bottom lip, but walked past Arthur into the room. Feeling elated and anxious at the same time, Arthur followed him in and shut the door behind him.   
Turning around, he found Eames a bit too close. Arthur felt his face betray him and almost all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his face. Tentatively reaching out, Arthur placed his hands on Eames' chest and pushed him a few foot further into the room.   
"Meticulous?" Eames asked, lips quirked into a small smirk.   
Arthur bit his lip, "No, I want to do this right. I owe you that much…" "Is this about you thinking you owe me this? Because if it is…" "I promise you it's not. I've been thinking about doing this for years, regretting my decision to leave. If you want me, I'm yours, every inch of me"  
With that said, Arthur did what he'd wanted to do for years. Leaning closer, inch by inch, until his lips gently made contact with Eames' slightly dry, chapped lips. This time, the warm bubbly feeling rising inside him did nothing but convince Arthur to stay like that for the rest of his life.   
When Eames pulled back, Arthur snaked his hand into the forgers' hand, tugging him closer. "I've been with quite a few women these past two years, even a few men, but none of them can even come remotely close to this way I feel when I'm with you, Eames," Arthur felt his eyes brim with tears of regret. "Please, forgive me"  
Eames smiled, brought the hand not busy being intertwined with Arthur's, up to wipe away the tears rolling down Arthur's cheek, brought the wet hand to his own chest, and said something that caused the rift in Arthur's soul to melt together into one solid piece he shared with this man before him.   
"I forgive you. You know why? Because you're a part of me. My heart feels your pain. Arthur, I swear… I swear I will be with you forever" Eames kissed away the tears streaming down Arthur's face, and Arthur hiccupped and swallowed, feeling the painful tightness in his throat.   
"I love you" Arthur sighed, mesmerized by the grey eyes, and Eames' mouth widened in a brilliant smile, just for him. "Love you too, darling" the brunette said as he tugged Arthur into a tight, comforting embrace.   
Unexpectedly, there was a vibrating noise and La Vie En Rose echoed through the room. The pair turned to glare, annoyed, at the Blackberry vibrating on the coffee table. Arthur reluctantly parted and quickly went to see who it was. "Cobb" he said to Eames, who nodded.   
"Hello?" Arthur said, not bothering to hide his irritation. "Arthur, you don't happen to have the number for Yusuf or Eames? I need to talk to Eames about an important part of his disguise" "He's here now, do you want to talk to him?" Arthur didn't wait for a reply, just handed the phone over to Eames, who answered the call.   
When Cobb had explained the new details about the disguise, Eames hung up and tossed the phone over to the bed. "Now, I believe we were hugging?" he stated with a mischievous tone. Arthur laughed and invaded the man's private space, leaning in for a kiss, longer and more delicious than before.   
Buttons were undone and within minutes both jackets were slung over the table as they had moved to the bed. Arthur's arms wrapped around Eames' larger frame as he snuggled closer. Now, nobody would imagine him as the snuggle-type, but Arthur loved cuddling, hugging and kissing. He was usually a bit cool, so having another person to share heat with was fantastic.   
"Arthur, I have to ask. What happens now? I know we will finish the job, but then what?" Eames asked, propping his head up on one hand as he stroked Arthur's cheek with the other. Arthur smiled, "Well, I was planning to take a vacation. I hear Mombasa has got some wonderful beaches, and an amazing cafe…"

 

The end

**Author's Note:**

> I've never been to either Mombasa or Paris, so locations... Fictional universe I guess?


End file.
